Page 10 of The Enforcer's Revenge
“We labeled them. Your name’s on the door. Just look. You’ll find it.”
“Nice to have the right last name.” Carlo looked like Christmas had come early as he glanced back at Lola, eyeing her tight black dress. His gaze was dark, possessive, as he said loud enough for them to hear, “I like everyone seeing you’re mine.”
“I thought you might.” Lola sounded almost shy about it before she gave him a coy look. “So, dance with me.”
Carlo didn’t need to be told twice.
Tino watched them disappear in a sea of masked partiers and asked Nova, “You think the mask hides her enough?”
“Probably not.” Nova sounded as concerned as Tino felt. “But I doubt anyone is looking at her face. That dress is pretty fucking distracting.”
That reminded Tino of the look of longing on Nova’s face, and he found the baggie underneath Carlo’s Beretta. Tino held it up, eyeing the four pills inside, and he saw the same lustful expression cross Nova’s face. Just as quickly, Nova looked back to his phone dismissively, even though it was blatantly obvious it was the drugs, not love and affection, that Nova was craving.
So, Tino had to ask, “You don’t want it?”
“Nope.” Nova didn’t look up as he said it, his concentration completely on his phone.
“How’d you just give it up?” Tino started setting all the guns on the coffee table as he said, “I don’t understand how that happens.”
“Hit rock bottom. You’ll understand,” Nova assured him. “I spent several years ignoring that my brother was being tortured and sold on the black market while I was rolling my ass off. I think I’m gonna skip the molly.”
Tino was sorry he asked because he had his own little habit to worry about, and he tried not to think about rock bottom. Not to mention, Nova’s flippant mention of those terrible years for Tino made his stomach knot to the point that he felt sick. He could feel the icy sweat break out on his body. He rubbed at his forehead and looked away to hide it.
“I’m sorry,” Nova whispered in the next second, as if he noticed how much one simple statement could still affect Tino.
“Huh?” Tino feigned innocence, hiding the sick feeling and giving his brother a confused look so he wouldn’t know how much little things like that still got to him. “What’re you sorry for?”
Nova studied him, as if trying to judge if Tino was faking it or not, and obviously decided not to risk it as he shook his head. “Nothing.”
If all else fails, play stupid—it worked every time.
Tino looked back to the stage, watching Brianna dance so he could forget the terrible memories that were churning in the back of his mind. After a few minutes, he had to say, “Have I told you how firm her ass is?”
“No, not that I remember,” Nova said in Italian without his usual sarcasm, even though Tino didn’t need Nova’s memory to know he’d told his brother more than once exactly how firm Brianna’s ass was. Nova set his phone aside and said, “So, tell me. I like details.”
“It feels so fucking good in my hands,” Tino confessed, fully aware Nova was humoring him. “I just wanna bite it. I wanna get on my knees and bite it and lick it and worship her until she’s sweaty and begging me to fuck her. Is that a Siciliano thing? Iwanna hear it. I want her to be so wet it makes a sound when I fuck her hard. Do you like it like that? Or is it just me? ’Cause, God, I fucking love it.”
“Nah, I like it.” Nova gave him a guilty smile. “If I can hear it, I can remember it, so trust me, I’m a big fan of the sounds women make.” Then he switched back to English and confessed, “That’s sorta my thing—listening, watching—that’s what gets me off.”
“You like it sweaty,” Tino pressed with a smirk. “Dirty.”
“I like sex any way I can get it. I’m not picky, not about that, but if I’m choosing?” Nova shrugged. “Sweaty, dirty, and loud is preferable.”
Tino couldn’t hide his wide, amused smile. “I knew you liked it salty like the rest of us.”
For some reason, it was kinda okay that Nova didn’t think Tino was stupid and oblivious, like everyone else saw him. Instead, Nova saw through the act to recognize that Tino was hurting, and he was willing to sit there and let him talk about something else to keep the demons at bay. Tino wasn’t so embarrassed anymore. If Nova wanted to help him, Tino wanted to let him, and it was good for both of them.
So, Tino talked about Brianna, and Nova listened.
The great thing about having ADHD was that Tino usually forgot the bad shit if properly distracted, and Brianna was always his favorite distraction. By the time the set ended and the DJ started playing music, Tino had forgotten about Mary and the years of abuse he endured.
Carina got to him first, maybe because she was on roller skates for reasons only she understood. Not blades either, but old-school roller skates that should’ve ended with her taking out at least twenty partiers before she got to the couch. Instead, people parted for her like they knew it was either move or eat tile.
“Tell me happy birthday!” she called in Italian as she skated up to them.
“Buon compleanno!” Tino shouted obediently as he jumped up on the couch and held out his arms. Carina leaped at him despite the roller skates, obviously knowing he’d catch her, and he did. He held her off her feet and placed a kiss on her cheek. He went on in Italian, “My baby sister’s finally turning twenty. I love you.”
“A whole three weeks after you,” she told him with a wide smile because the two of them were less than a month apart in age, thanks to their father, who was apparently good at multitasking when it came to wives and girlfriends. “I love you too.” Carina was obviously so high on life that she kicked Nova with her roller skate while still clinging to Tino and demanded, “Wish me a happy birthday,stronzo.”
